Six Loves Lost

Life-size replica of his feet

October is Pregnancy & Infant Loss Month. In any typical year, I'd post those reminders/memes on my fb page without a thought. I'd do it because it would be my way of remembering the five babies I've lost in the past 15 years due to early pregnancy miscarriages. But all those babies, though their loss saddened me, were vague notions of a human being to me. I never saw their face, I never held them, I never even officially named them. I knew they existed in eternity as much as I did in this world. I knew one day I would know them and know their name. But to me, it was the loss of their future in my arms and in our family that saddened me, not so much the grief over their physical death. And then this year, everything changed.

 I found out I was pregnant again not long after the New Year. Just when I had signed up for a gym membership and even purchased extra personal training sessions (I would be getting back in shape this year, dangit!), I found out I was pregnant. Call it Murphy's Law, but every time I have committed to going on some diet or joining some gym or feeling like maybe there are new adventures or a new direction I can take, pregnancy hits me like a humorous, ironic and fateful force. A reminder that this life is not my own, and I am not in control. So a year and a half after my previous miscarriage, here I was again wondering what was in store for me and this little one.

 Week after week went by with no clue as to what was going on in there, what was going to happen. Finally, I had an ultrasound scheduled around 11 weeks. Pretty much right around the time I usually miscarried. I hadn't allowed myself to be emotional and even accept the pregnancy until I saw that little beating heart on the dark screen. Here was my child, still healthy, still moving around, still growing. I went out to my car holding the sonogram pictures in my hand and sat in my car and sobbed. I was going to have another baby! Finally acceptance. Finally hope. One month later, as I sat in bed early one morning unable to sleep, there was a pop and a gush. And just like that I lost him.

 Unlike every other miscarriage I'd had, this time I saw him. I saw his little face half covered by one perfect hand. I was struck by the details of him. His nose, his mouth, the little line across his chest that his diaphragm made. He was truly perfect in every way, and he was mine. But I would never hear his cry, never see his eyes open and never watch him grow. My heart shattered, and as I bled out the next few hours and days, it was if all my joy in life and hope in goodness flowed out as well. One week later when I could finally physically stand and walk again, we buried him in the pouring rain under our bleeding heart bush in the backyard. His coffin was a five inch box.

 My due date was in September two days after we closed on a new house. I was too busy to truly mourn, but I remembered. In the early days of October, probably about the time I would naturally have birthed him, my body remembered by dredging up nightmares of babies born and unborn. I awoke knowing deep down that this is when I would have had him. It was as if the very tissues and blood and genetic material in the depths of my body and mind remembered him and knew this would have been his time. I would have had another October baby.

 I will never be the same again. I will always carry around this sorrow that is a part of me now. And now that I've seen his face and held him, I know the love I have for him is the same love for all his brothers and sisters that have gone before him. When he entered eternity, they were there to welcome him. The first time he opened his eyes, he was able to view heaven. The arms that hold him now are Jesus' arms. And though my arms will always feel his void, he knows I know him and love him. And he knows his name.

Forever in my love, we miss you greatly, Matthias.

This is the one song that helped me get through this year. Most times, I sang it only able to mouth the words as tears streamed down, but my heart fully embraced, "Your Will be Done."  

Choices

Sometimes it seems like God is a big, fat teaser. It's especially hardest when life hands you unexpected surprises (a pregnancy, a job, a move - something hopeful) which then fall apart. You end up sitting there wondering what happened. Wondering why these possibilities were snatched away. Wondering why they were even offered in the first place. Hopes you maybe never even asked for. Dreams you never thought were within arm's reach that get dangled in front of your nose and then removed. Maybe something you've worked so hard for which gets further away instead of closer. In those moments, there are always choices. Choices to yell and scream, to sink into depression, to push God away, to give up. Choices to move forward, pray for strength and hope, embrace God. Sometimes we choose all of these. But the ache in my soul can tempt me to walk away instead of walk beside Him. But the knowledge of Who He is overshadows my weak resolve. My broken heart knows my healing can only come from Him. So while I kick against the sorrows life hands me, my black and blue heart tells me to run to Him. To crawl up into His lap. To cry and complain to Him. Because at the end of the day, no matter what happens, I know Who He is. He is not a teaser. He is not a bully. He is my Father, my Abba. And I am loved by Him.

Just as a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him. Psalm 103:13

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort. 2 Corinthians 1:3

How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! 1 John 3:1

It Takes a Village? Yes, Yes, It Does!

I know I don't write much on this blog site anymore, but I saw this post and it just screamed KAJIJIS! Anyway, when I read this, it literally brought tears to my eyes because of the stark truth in it along with the realization that this is what Kajiji Girls was all about. Life goes on and some things can't go on forever, BUT the needs go on as well and if we don't meet them, we starve and everyone around us suffers. I miss all of you so much and hope we can connect again soon! Enjoy!!

Every day I go about my life: drive my children to and fro, make breakfast, lunch and dinner, and change my baby's diapers in my four-walled house while the world buzzes around me busy and fast. My little plays on the floor and I watch him pluck toy after toy out of the large box in the corner of the room and although my life is rich with many things, I think about you because I miss the village.

I miss the village I never had. The one with mothers doing the washing side by side, clucking and laughing hysterically, tired in body but quick in spirit. We'd know each other so well: annoying one other from time to time, but never staying mad long because the truth is, we need each other.

The children would wake up early, as they tend to, and run outside, finding each other amongst the tall trees. They'd disappear into the field and forest for a day of play as we'd start our sacred work. We'd knead bread side by side, the littles at our feet, breasts, on our backs and in our arms. It would be impossible to tell whose children belonged to whom -- we'd all attend to the group of toddling wee ones, check on the deeply breathing babies, wave little hands off of our floured table, pinch cheeks and kiss boo-boos.

The days would be full of conversation as we expertly flexed a muscle that has since gone weak: the art of listening. Quiet empathy in lieu of passive judgement, and when called for, gentle, sincere advice. In our village, our members are our estate and we build them up.

Continue to original site to read more...

Happy Humble, Serving, Joyful, Devoted, Contented Day! I mean, Happy Mother's Day!

Oh, boy, do I need this reminder! I would sum up my thoughts and feelings about this article here except that you just have to read it for yourself and see if you relate to any of it. I know I do! Oh, and before you start, Happy Mother's Day!

I heard it all over Facebook and Twitter and in phone calls last year. The disappointment.

The flowers that didn’t come, the cards that were forgotten, the breakfast that was a disaster and that you had to clean up while everyone else was watching football.

The house that wasn’t quiet or clean or tidied up. The getting to sleep in that didn’t happen, the nap that evaporated into a toddler’s meltdown, the meal that someone else didn’t prepare. The laundry that wasn’t folded for you.

The kids that didn’t call, the sermon that wasn’t about mothers, the grand kids who didn’t visit.

I heard it again and again in so many different, disappointed, let down ways – how this one day can’t possibly live up to what it means to mother.

How 24 hours can’t possibly hold the measure of a lifetime of laying oneself low for the loving and raising and wrangling of tiny humans.

Why do we think it will? I ask myself this every year after the inevitable disappointment.

But we do. We expect.

We expect so big and so hard and with so much pre-programming that we don’t know how to turn the expectations off. 

- See more at: http://lisajobaker.com/2014/05/how-not-to-be-disappointed-this-mothers-day/#sthash.08Ex9eZv.dpuf

Pagan {Christian} Parenting

Please go here and read this article RIGHT NOW! :)  It's called "How to Raise a Pagan Kid in a Christian Home".  It's phenomenal and will really prick your conscience if you're like the typical American Christian parent like me.  Here's an excerpt:

Do you teach your kids "be good because the Bible tells you to" or do you teach your kids that they will never be good without Christ’s offer of grace? There is a huge difference. One leads to moralism; the other leads to brokenness. One leads to self-righteousness; the other leads to a life that realizes that Christ is everything and that nothing else matters.   

Continue reading the post here....

Jon Bloom on the DesiringGod.org website writes an awesome post called "Don't Raise Good Kids" - a post where I can very much personally relate to the author's words. Making our children see the total depravity that is in them is key to making them see the need for Christ's grace and salvation in their life. Another great blog post I just read from Sally Clarkson is about training up your child (especially that difficult one that knows just how to push your buttons!) and recognizing the unique traits that irritate you now but may help them fulfill God's calling on their life later.

I sit here in the midst of these incredible teachings and can only pray for God to help me teach my children the gospel, not just good behavior!  Help me to reach their hearts for God, not create an external facade of righteousness!

Some resources I'm either reading right now or own that I feel are helpful toward this end are:

For Instructions in Righteousness (awesome reference guide to match Scripture with different character weaknesses - this company also provides many other excellent resources for Biblical character training)

Shepherding a Child's Heart (love this book but have yet to finish it)

Wise Words for Moms (very thin reference book with easy-to-use chart of verses to deal with specific offenses)

Don't Make Me Count to Three! (reading right now)

Teach Them Diligently: How to Use the Scriptures in Child Training (very good book about getting to the heart of your child's behavior and how to train up your child in the admonition of the Lord)

Grace-Based Parenting (looks good though I haven't read it and don't own it)

If you have any other suggestions, feel free to leave them in the comments section below...

Offering Up Your Talents

When I do rarely happen to catch an interesting posting on someone's blog, many times I'm uplifted, encouraged, convicted, inspired, etc.  However there are times when I feel the posting is written *just* for me! This is one I love and want to share with you.  It's about being willing to sacrifice and lay on the altar your gifts and strengths and those things you actually take pride in and enjoy in life and give it all to God so He can use you much more mightily than you could ever do in your own strength.  It mirrors many of the same thoughts I've had regarding where God has me at right now and the lessons He's teaching me through my situation. Maybe you can relate.

Not too long ago a young woman was over at my house for some reason that I cannot remember. Now on a typical day  at my house you would find dishes in the sink, junk on the floor, a baby unloading a drawer, laundry on the stairs, and about 410 things on my to-do list. Children are always coloring, wielding scissors, and gluing things on the window when I’m not looking. Hopefully, you would also find me running around in the midst of it, because long experience has taught me that giving up on it won’t get results. I don’t remember what exactly was going on when she came by, but at some point she commented that she was the sort of person who liked things to be really orderly. It wasn’t a criticism and it wasn’t offensive, although it did make me laugh. Because, lo. Me too.

Please continue reading here...

Opposite World courtesy of WLW Ministries

I follow a blog called Women Living Well Ministries and the blog author had a series entitled {Opposite World} where she shares how our lives as Christians are (and should be) quite opposite from how the world lives. I haven't caught all the posts, but the most recent one caught my eye.  It's about friendship between women, and I wanted to share it with you here.

"I got a phone call a few years back from a friend at church.  The girl called me to talk about our friendship that seemed strained. She called to see if anything was wrong (I LOVE that she took the time to call me).  I really had no issue with her –only that I could sense that she didn’t really like me. And I accepted the fact that not everyone in the world is going to like this fast talking, loud laughing, Bible girl…so I had made peace with it. We were polite in the halls at church but there was no real friendship.

So when she called to ask what was wrong? I didn’t know what to say…only that I felt like she didn’t like me but I didn’t know why.  Then she said it. She said her reason why."

Continued here...

You Are Here

It's been a long while.  A long time since I've written on this blog.  A long while that I've had time to even think about writing or reading a blog.  My life is so busy right now, and I'm just now getting an inkling as to what everyone-else-I've-ever-looked-at-cross-eyed-because-they-were-too-busy-to-live-life feels like. I know this is a temporary season, but it's the season I'm smack-dab in the middle of right now.  The frenetic schedule and energy needed for it is actually quite addicting as life is constantly changing around me in a swirling frenzy.

Knee-deep in homeschooling while simultaneously getting one of my children off to school and picked up every day is an interesting dichotomy for us.  Living in this tiny house with too many bodies wears thin and seems to become more suffocating with each year that passes. But I'm finding joy and contentment in the little things, if you can call them 'little'.  Sending my kindergartner to school has had surprising results like making me again feel connected to this unbelievable community I was so recently ready to pack up and move away from without a second thought. (We really do live in one of the best towns in the whole of NH, in my humble opinion.)  Meeting new people in our neighborhood due to various circumstances has made me actually cherish our previously-loathed location on our "fixer-upper" street surrounded by lovely (i.e. well-to-do) houses in the historic district of town.  Yes, we literally live on the wrong side of the tracks.  In a neighborhood where the most common vernacular consists of four-letter words and where heavy metal/rap is the preferred music carried on the wind, we have recently heard worship music belted out of our next door neighbor's window.  I believe that is a definite first.

God's way can be a tough way, a narrow way, a hard-to-swallow way, but it is always a way full of Hope.  I know God is with us, and He will not abandon or forsake us in this little house on this little street.  Because no matter the issues we have with this house, He is here.  Living among us.  And from the beginning of our house hunting, I've always said that I would rather stay here with Him forever than move forward without Him.

But.  It is still sometimes so hard.

I feel stretched at times in trying to keep house, never mind fitting everyone into this house.  I'm seriously starting to feel like the old woman who lived in a shoe with her ten children.  My creativity has reached its limits with storage solutions, and my children sleep on mats on the floor because there is no room for beds.  And yet, He is here.  Our back yard is perfect for our toddler but not so much for three bigger boys who want to roam and run and play ball.  We have two tiny closets in the entire house to hold seven people's clothes.  Yet He is here and whispers that we have too many clothes.  Our fridge is a fairly small one in order to fit in the space allotted for it and so come winter, we sigh with relief that we can use our grill outside to hold food.  Yet He reminds us we are lucky to have so much food.  When it's laundry day and my kitchen and living room is full of clothes because our washing machine and dryer openly reside in our kitchen, my God reminds me that my neighbors still have to run to the laundromat a mile or two away in order to wash their clothes.  When I look at our house and see all the S-T-U-F-F we have (even after our many purges), I ask myself whom I'm serving - God or Mammon?  And He gently reminds me He's better than all this stuff. He's better than any house anywhere.  He is here.

So if I were to look at one of those maps that indicates "You Are Here" and be tempted to think "But I don't want to be here!", I would be remiss to not take notice of the fine print that says "God Is Here".  And why would I ever want to move away from that very spot?  When God moves, we'll move.

God's way is a hopeful way.  God help me to remember that every time I trip over my laundry or my children!

Why Time With God is A Very Fluid Concept Right Now

This morning, I was going to turn over a new leaf. Or rather, a dry brittle leaf that's been turned over more times than Jack & Jill would have had the hill they fell down been Mt. Washington itself.  I was going to start my day with God. You know, that glorious idea of a "Morning Devotional," or "Quiet Time?" I woke at 7:20am with visions of a breakfast date with Jesus. Here's what it was going to look like:

I was going to get up, greet my family members and pray with David before he left for work. Then I was going to make myself my standard espresso with chocolate caramel creamer and for a special treat, a grilled blueberry bagel with cinnamon neufchatel. Playing my Cool Praise station on Pandora, I was going to finally get around to starting a devotional journal by Luci Swindoll that has sat on my shelf for long enough for me to forget when I received it but short enough I still remember who gave it to me. I was going to cuddle up on the couch with Christ and start my day right, for once in my life thank you very much.

Here's how it really went down:

I get up, greet my family members and pray with David before he leaves for work. I find the book I want and crank up the praise. Then we realize our godson, Landon, is about to walk or drive by on his way to his very first day of Kindergarten. This is far too big a momentous occasion to sit idly back and miss it! Quickly we make a sign, "GO LANDON," and run outside to cheer him on. (I realize now, our sign could have been taken a couple different ways, but luckily I don't think his teacher will get to hidden meanings and innuendos on day one of English.) As he and his mom walk by, Vivi and I cheer and wave and I fight back the tears because I am the emotional equivalent to maple syrup.

Back inside. Forty minutes have passed since my feet first touched the floor. But I still have hope. I can DO this!

To the kitchen to make breakfast. While waiting for my espresso and bagel to be ready I multitask and fill the dishwasher and get it going. When I go to grab one of my adorable French espresso cups, I drop the matching spoon. I spend five minutes on searching for the pieces, which I am hoping I can superglue together, but later. Instead I must find a "safe" place to put them where they won't get lost or cut someone. The music stand of the piano looks a likely candidate.

Ahhh. Finally, I sit down on the couch, anxious to inspect the underside of that Quiet Time Leaf once again. But as it turns out, Bo needs some attention. His endearing method of communicating that looks something akin to a gigantic fruit fly buzzing around my lap, my head, and of course my book. Being the Super Spiritual Mom that I am, I of course yell at him that "I am trying to have my time with God right now, please stop!!!" 

T + 90 minutes since blast off. Back to my book. I've managed to skim one whole page and almost answer an entire question when the phone rings. It's my friend needing last-minute childcare because their sitter was a no-show. "Of course you can bring them over, " I promise as I stumble to my feet and begin a mad dash up the stairs to my bedroom to find something clean and decent to wear, as getting dressed was supposed to happen AFTER my quiet time. Then I race to the kitchen and dining room to make sure the spaces most prone to being very UN-kid-friendly are a smidge more child-proof - knives put away-check, milk back in the fridge-check, cabinets closed-check, tempting treats out of reach-check. Even though Meme still needs her morning pills, I figure I better wait until after the children arrive or I might make the mistake of being in her bedroom when I should be at the door, death grip on our dog's collar as 5 children file in. So instead I sit back down to "enjoy" a chorus of "Hosanna" while I scarf down the remainder of my now-cold espresso and dried out bagel. As my last bites pass my lips the phone rings, but when I go to find the phone I see the family has arrived, so I let it go to voice mail.

*         *         *

In the midst of the last 3 hours I have managed to sneak in moments of typing this up in between at least a half-dozen phone calls, a visit and cup of tea with a friend, addressing a boo-boo, reading a book, doing a puzzle, getting seven snacks, policing the dog away from the children countless times, administering medication to my mother-in-law, helping a 3 year old go potty, and making lunch.

It's 12:30. I'd say I am going to attempt a lunch date with Jesus, but reality has lowered my expectations somewhat. If Jesus wants to hang with me today, he better be wearing running shoes.

A Christian's Role

“The question “How can Christians be culturally relevant?” is redundant. “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds” wasn’t a temporary cultural need 2,000 years ago. Only Jesus can give the world what it needs, but often to show them the Designer and Author of Life we are too busy making sure that we fit in. Mother Theresa was out of this world because she was living for the next one. Can you say that?  Is the majority of your day spent making sure that this world knows who you are or is the majority of your day spent making sure that this world knows who Christ is? The gospel makes us culturally relevant because we know the answer to the question that every culture asks. We don’t need to remodel Jesus to make the salvation He offers appealing. Serving those around us as Christ did is all the relevance we need. Be culturally relevant by living out the answer to our culture’s most acute need: the need for The Savior. Appeal to this generation by dressing down your ego. Humble yourself to serve as the King of Kings served. Serve in a loving, practical way, getting your hands dirty.”1

A topic that keeps tumbling around in my brain and popping up in conversation recently has been Service.  Everyone who truly follows Christ feels led to serve in some way.  Whether you serve in your community, your church or your home, service opportunities are always before you.  What’s interesting for me though is how we label service.  For instance, because my family attends a house church, it’s much harder to see service opportunities, at least, on the face of things.  There are no sign-up sheets asking for teachers, nursery workers, musicians, etc.  There are no special collections taken for the poor, the unemployed, the widow or the regular offering to contribute toward all the expenses associated with running a charitable organization or church building.  I’m sure many people who have tried house church eventually leave feeling like there’s nothing for them to do or nowhere to give of themselves or their money, and God has placed some kind of cause or service on their heart so they must go somewhere to fulfill that role.  The point is God has placed service on every one of his follower’s hearts, and we are commanded to fill that role.

House church eliminates titles. And coming from a traditional church background, this can actually be very hard to deal with when you don’t know any other way.  When you know your role, you know your place.  Being a helper in the nursery helps one to understand how they are helping on a weekly or monthly basis.  It helps one to compartmentalize their service.  It may sound like I’m criticizing this, but truth be told, it helps one to see exactly where God is using them and how.  And that can be encouraging and uplifting.  But house church throws everyone and everything together into one big pot, stirs it together and forces one to figure out how to live life without the differentiations and compartmentalization between religion and daily life.  It is this melding of faith and works in my daily life that I sometimes stumble over.  How am I serving God?  When am I serving God?  Am I serving God enough?  Enough for what??

As a woman in a house church (or a small group Bible study), I run the risk of thinking that the only thing I can do is prepare food, serve it and clean up afterward.  I can validate my “role” by telling myself it’s important to be hospitable and make my home clean for guests, it's important to serve the food as it’s vital to the gathering that we share in the Lord’s meal when we come together, it’s important to keep the children quiet so others can pray, sing, worship in their own way and together as a group, etc.  It's not much different than a member of a traditional church telling themselves it's important to be involved in the music ministry so others can worship, in the children's ministry so the little ones can learn about God, in the mission board meetings so we can help spread the Word.  We tell these sorts of things to ourselves all the time; this can result in self-satisfaction in our own serving or we can feel like our service amounts to nothing and we must do more.  But no matter which side of the issue you fall on, it's vitally important to be listening to what God is telling us. 

Get.

Involved.

In.

People’s.

Lives.

One of the greatest acts of service I experienced was after the birth of my last baby.  One of my church family members, Vickie, came over every week to hold and rock the baby (as well as do laundry) so I could get a much-needed break from my high needs baby and get some things done.  Bless her heart that she chose to get her hands dirty and come give me some personal help!  I seriously don’t know what my mental state would be right now if she hadn’t come to the rescue.  True Christian ministry always consists of personal, relational, sometimes-dirty service.  I would go so far as to argue: if it’s not personal and relational, it’s not ministry.  Jesus’ ministry was always personal, and it was always relational.  Ministry is intimate, and I’m realizing the less comfortable I am with intimacy*, the less I’m able to be used by God.

* Intimacy  in·ti·ma·cy    [in-tuh-muh-see]  

1. the state of being intimate.  
2. a close, familiar, and usually affectionate or loving personal relationship with another person or group.
3. a close association with or detailed knowledge or deep understanding of a place, subject, period of history, etc.: an intimacy with Japan.
4. an act or expression serving as a token of familiarity, affection, or the like: to allow the intimacy of using first names.
5. an amorously familiar act; liberty.

As the years go by, I am slowly realizing my service to God is a daily “getting-my-hands-dirty”, “loving-people-through-their-mess” while “accepting-help-with-my-own-dirt” kinda thing.  One doesn’t need a title to be serving God, and if you’re searching for a specific role to fill, it’s probably right in front of you existing in that woman you met at church last week or that neighbor you bumped into yesterday.  Even closer to home, it exists in your family.  Do they recognize your service to God in your love for them?  Showing God’s love, mercy and grace to your own spouse and children is a full-time ministry in and of itself.  Do NOT trivialize that!  God wants to use where we are whether that’s traditional church, house church or you don’t go to church.  He will take every opportunity we’re willing to give Him and bend it to His purpose.

Kajiji Girls is its own ministry, make no mistake about it.  We mirror the early church far more than most churches do these days, because it’s the daily living with each other and the loving each other that is representative of the early church.  Our acts of service to each other blesses us all enormously, but most importantly, it points the world to God and His amazing love for us and through us.  Every act of service you perform for another follower of Christ, for one who needs Christ, for the one you’re married to and for the one(s) you mother ministers not only to them but to yourself and mainly to God.

When you’re worried that you don’t have an official title, remember you are a royal priesthood (I Pet. 2:9).   Or if you’re looking for a role to sign up for, remember you are to carry one another’s burdens (Gal. 6:2). Or you're worried you're not out there fulfilling the Great Commission, remember your home is your mission field and your love for those around you is the greatest testimony to offer the world (John 13:35).  Just look at those around you right now.  Look at the people you walk by every day or the sisters-in-Christ you fellowship with every week.  Look...truly look...at the needs present in those people and see if you can meet them somehow.  

That is ministry, dear one.  

That is your role.

1. From an article contained in the latest Medi-share newsletter, In the World, Not of It by Hannah Foti, Marketing Coordinator

Motherhood is Not a Hobby

This one of the finest pieces I have ever read about Motherhood.  I just had to share it here:

Motherhood is not a hobby, it is a calling. You do not collect children because you find them cuter than stamps. It is not something to do if you can squeeze the time in. It is what God gave you time for.

Christian mothers carry their children in hostile territory. When you are in public with them, you are standing with, and defending, the objects of cultural dislike. You are publicly testifying that you value what God values, and that you refuse to value what the world values. You stand with the defenseless and in front of the needy. You represent everything that our culture hates, because you represent laying down your life for another—and laying down your life for another represents the gospel.

Our culture is simply afraid of death. Laying down your own life, in any way, is terrifying. Strangely, it is that fear that drives the abortion industry: fear that your dreams will die, that your future will die, that your freedom will die—and trying to escape that death by running into the arms of death.

Please continue on to the Desiring God website to read from the beginning...

Goodness as a Reflection

My husband was just telling me about this article he had read in some National Geographic magazine which intrigued him to no end.  It was about Singapore, a country 1/8 the size of Delaware. It states: "Out of a malarial swamp, the tiny island at the southernmost tip of the Malay Peninsula gained independence from Britain in 1963 and, in one generation, transformed itself into a legendarily efficient place, where the per capita income for its 3.7 million citizens exceeds that of many European countries, the education and health systems rival anything in the West, government officials are largely corruption free, 90 percent of households own their own homes, taxes are relatively low and sidewalks are clean, and there are no visible homeless people or slums.  If all that, plus a typical unemployment rate of about 3 percent and a nice stash of money in the bank thanks to the government's enforced savings plan, doesn't sound sweet to you, just travel 600 miles south and try getting by in a Jakarta shantytown."1  Sounds nice, right?

But when you start to read about their laws and how their enforced policies extend to every little facet of life, you wonder if the price of their prosperity and security is worth it. There are fines for chewing gum, spitting, even bringing durian fruit into certain places.  Littering trash or a cigarette butt will get you a $200 fine the first time; next time you'll find yourself doing community service and picking up others' litter.  If you're found with even small amounts of drugs, you'll be sentenced to a court-ordered caning.  Penalty for drug trafficking is death.   And woe to the foreign immigrants who find themselves in a family way!  Pregnancy means deportation.  Couples are encouraged to marry within their own status so college graduates should marry other college graduates, and the "Two is Enough" slogan gives you an idea of their population control.  The article goes on to explain the minister's ideas on humanity: "'The Confucian theory was man could be improved, but I'm not sure he can be.  He can be trained, he can be disciplined.'  In Singapore that has meant lots of rules - prohibiting littering, spitting on sidewalks, failing to flush public toilets - with fines and occasional outing in the newspaper for those who break them."  According to the minister, the idea "'that man could be perfected...was an optimistic way of looking at life.'  People abuse freedom.  That is his beef with America: The rights of individuals to do their own thing allow them to misbehave at the expense of an orderly society.  As they say in Singapore:  What good are all those rights if you're afraid to go out at night?"

Even if it still sounds somewhat like an Utopian society to you, here's how some of Singapore's citizens summed up their thoughts:  "I do lament our lack of freedom to express ourselves, and the government's seemingly unmitigated grip on power and what appears to be an inconsistent willingness to listen to public sentiment that does not suit it." and another sentiment "Singapore is like a warm bath.  You sink in, slit your wrists, your lifeblood floats away, but hey, it's warm." Utopia?  Hmmm...

I was reminded of the above article when I came across a quote today in a book.  

"I was taught right and wrong as a kid.  But the truth is that I drive completely differently when there is a cop behind me, and when there isn't.  It is hard for us to admit we have a sin nature, because we live in this system of checks and balances.  If we get caught, we'll be punished.  But this doesn't make us good people; it makes us subdued people.*  Just think about the Senate and the House, even the President.  The genius of the American system is checks and balances.  Nobody gets all the powers.  Everyone is watching everyone else.  It's as if the Founding Fathers knew intrinsically that the soul of humanity, unwatched, is perverse."2 

The idea that just because we might know right from wrong and live accordingly doesn't make us good.  It makes us subdued.  Only the Father is good.  Only Christ is good.  Only the Holy Spirit is good.  And the more we give ourselves over to God and allow the goodness of the Holy Spirit to shine through us, the more good we'll seemingly look to others.  But we will never be good ourselves and on our own terms.  Countries can mandate good behavior, but goodness or righteousness can never be attained.  Let us never forget that we are only the reflection of God's goodness to others.  Having no light of our own, we are the moon to His sun.  

1. From the January 2010 National Geographic magazine titled "Merging Man and Machine"

2. Quote from Jazz Notes: Improvisations on Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller

* Bold font mine.

Note: Any references/notes pulled from Nat Geo or the book Jazz Notes does in no way mean I agree/believe with the philosophies put forth by either resource.  

Seven - Possessions

We've wrapped up the clothing chapter of Seven and are moving on to the chapter on Possessions. This means we will be spending roughly the month of April in serious purge-mode. The challenge is to give away the equivalent of 7 items a day for 30 days, which totals 240 items. However, there are LOTS of variations on this, and the important thing is to reflect on where your own possessions are possessing you and address THAT.

For me, it will roughly look like spending one week on clothing & accessories, one week on closets, one on toys, books and crafts, and one on my kitchen. If my husband gets involved, there may be time spent in our barn as well. I will be working hard at applying the questions below to items and getting rid of anything that doesn't make the cut.

In effort to help you with the items you may be finding it difficult to part with, ask yourself the following series of questions:

1. Do I love it?

2. Do I use it/wear it? How long ago did I use it/wear it?

3. Does it serve more than one purpose and/or assist me to get rid of something else in it's place? (ie. a mixer with a bread dough blade could maybe replace a bread machine.)

4. Do I have the space to store it without creating a cluttered space?

5. Am I willing to give up something else in order to make room for it? 

6. Can I imagine myself or anyone in my family ever loving it or needing it in the foreseeable future?

7. Can I honestly see myself finishing, fixing, or using this item for what it was intended? (Ie, craft projects, broken items, unimplemented home improvement solutions, etc.)

8. Am I keeping this item out of obligation or expectation?

9. Is this a real "just in case item" or an imaginary one? (Ie. the difference between storing some emergency candles or that formal dress from 1986 that just might come in handy the next time you're invited to a prom.)

10. Do I have multiples of this item? (A great example - art supplies - how many burnt umber crayons do you need? - Hint: the answer is ONE. No matter how many kids you have.)

11. Is this item worth the time and space it uses in my life?

Try to think outside the box whenever possible. A great way to do this is to bring in a friend who you know approaches life differently than you do - use this to your advantage and have them help you evaluate your true "need" for things or even how to put what you have and the space you have to their best use.

Do you have more tips on organizing and purging? Share them with us! Don't forget to also share how you hope to attack your stuff this month!

Clothing Cheater

Well, I've started cheating. I kinda knew I would. Last night, when I went to get ready for bed and remembered that my one set of PJs was in the wash (downstairs) and I hadn't had the time to do laundry (like, this whole week), and it was just way too warm (thank Jesus) for my fleece jammies anyway, so I grabbed a cotton pair and called it a night.

Then, this morning, after two days of sweating to death, I grabbed a cardigan to get me through the morning and evening instead of wearing one of my sweaters. If you know me, you know I don't over heat EVER, so this is serious business.

The Lesson learned? Clothing fasts of this magnitude were not meant to be conducted during a change of season in a four-season climate.

Brainless

Crystal here.  Going into my second week with this experiment has shown me that I am perfectly comfortable wearing almost the same thing every. single. day.  Wow, totally didn't expect that.  In fact, my pile of approved clothes sits in a small pile right inside my bedroom door so I don't even have to really put my clothes away when I'm done wearing them for the day.  This also makes it quite brainless in picking out my outfit for the day.  The ease and convenience of  it all has me seriously considering planning out my monthly wardrobe like people plan out their monthly food menu.  Month of May?  Oh, yes, 3 pants, 4 shirts and a pair of pajamas.  June?  Shorts, t-shirt and flip-flops.  All. month. long.  Hmmmm...I thought this was supposed to be a sacrificial experiment.  Am I missing something or just reveling in the simplicity of it all?  Is there boredom there? Sure.  Am I sometimes tempted to choose something else?  Of course.  But this experiment is really catering to my overstimulated, overwhelmed, need-to-make-life-really-easy, don't-make-me-think-too-hard brain.  I blame it on the children.

Clothing - Christmas in March

I woke up celebrating this morning, despite the unfavorable amount of white stuff covering my crocuses. I have no printable comments to say about welcoming the first day of Spring with a blizzard. Rather, I realized I had two shirts off my approved list that never made it out of my bureau and therefore haven't been worn these past two weeks. EUREKA! I am so excited. I think I may be on to something and should consider gradually adding back articles of my clothing once this month's fast is complete. Talk about changing my attitude about what it is I have to wear. I've never been this emotional over a red turtleneck in my life.

Oh shoot. I think I just figured out that I am still missing the point.

Clothinng - 1 Week - Backfire

So after being at this for one week, there are a few thoughts swimming around in my brain.

1. I'm sick of wearing this stuff.

2. When this is over I need to go clothing shopping.

Rest assured I am just as aghast at that 2nd item as you may be. What? Go shopping?! Obviously I am missing the point. But here's the deal. I own one pair of jeans. I think I may be the only American who fits this category. ONE PAIR. And the pair I do have were hand-me-downs. I think a second pair might be in order. If for no other reason than I am realizing the serious "Go-to" potential of jeans. Don't know what to wear? Jeans. Going out on the town? Jeans and a dressy shirt with some bling. Staying home for the day? Jeans and a fleece pull over. They really are the be-all-end-all of a wardrobe. Who knew?

I also own one pair of yoga pants. Yoga pants are the yuppie-version of the pajama jean. Once again, you can pair them with anything. Plus, if you splurge and get the shinier, spandexier kind, you can get away with wearing them all the time, without looking like you are in your PJs or on the way to the gym, which is the only thing I use my current pair for. I am beginning to figure out how much I am missing in that setting that limitation. Seriously.

And the third item I have added to my shopping list is a good, personally fitted bra.  I went and watched a video about how to be properly fitted and the difference a quality bra can make.  So now I've had it with misshapen cups, falling down straps and bent-to-heck clasps. I think the last time I bought a bra was about a decade ago and was probably purchased at TJ Maxx.  It's time, Ladies.

I'm keeping my list handy for additional shopping inspiration as we head into our second week. Only our SECOND WEEK. This might turn into a more expensive experiment than I estimated.

Mutiny Against Excess Experiment (Crystal's Clothing)

This month, as you've probably read, we're diving into the book, Seven: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess.  Since we're doing the Clothing month first, we've decided to share our allowable list of clothing for the month.  Some of us are doing other things such as only wearing clothes we haven't worn in more than a year,etc.  I'm really looking forward to hearing about others' experiences.  I started my "month" on Sunday this week and am on my second day.  Here's my rundown of clothing items I've chosen for my Seven experiment this month:

1. One pair of jeans
2. One pair of pajama jeans (should I be embarrassed about this? Hey, they're really comfy!)
3. A long-sleeve white shirt
4. A short-sleeve slate grey top (will usually be layered with #3 white shirt)
5. A long-sleeve navy top
6. A long-sleeve teal decorated top
7. One button-down "blouse"
8. My slippers (what I wear all day every day)
9. Black shoes
10. Green fleece zip-up jacket
11. Winter wool jacket
12. Gloves & scarf (can I combine these two things or is that cheating?)
13. One set of pajamas
14. A 'duster-type" sweater

I have not included my underwear, socks or the camisoles I wear for nursing purposes.  Because I nurse and have a toddler, I find that I need extra layers and my clothes don't stay clean very long due to sticky fingers, stains, etc. (which is why I've chosen maybe one or two tops more than usual).  I almost didn't include a scarf, however since most of my tops are nothing like turtlenecks (again because of nursing), I'm allowing myself the warmth of a scarf when I step outside.  I've also decided against jewelry and am only leaving my crummy stainless steel studs in my ears (so they don't close!).  I'm sure I'll have my own questions as I go along as to what is or is not allowed.  I'm looking forward to seeing what this experiment will teach me.

Clothing - Day Two

Came up with two questions today.

Do hair accessories count as a banned item?

What about my winter robe?

Not trying to be legalistic, but I've been in a minor tizzy about these two all day.

(Written while wrapped up in my robe with my hair in two buns held by hair elastics.)

Clothing - Day One

I almost forgot today was the start of Seven. I was so excited to embrace a pajama day when I saw the snow flying outside. Hmmmm. A day of staying in the house, warm and snuggly in my footie jammies for the WHOLE DAY. YES!

But the jammies I was wearing weren't on my approved list.

I got dressed.

Which is probably a good thing, because then I went to my chiropractic adjustment and later we're hosting house church. I guess red footie pajamas aren't really doctor visits or worship and fellowship attire.